


i want to sleep next to you, but that's all i want to do right now

by maureenbrown



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: ( it's not really that bad it's just sad ), Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Assassin!Blue, Assassins & Hitmen, Character Death, F/M, Gen, M/M, Mild Gore, Multi, Romance, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 17:21:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7541374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maureenbrown/pseuds/maureenbrown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With a groan, Blue flops over onto her stomach. Time to stop skirting the issue. Although she despises her assignments, she gets paid heavily and rewarded even more than the amount of wealth she receives. </p><p>She pulls the crumpled sheets from under her stomach, closing her eyes for feigned dramatic effect. She’s nervous. This doesn’t feel right.</p><p>Blue opens the portfolio. Some stats tumble out, but she finds herself most drawn to the picture. His name appears to be Richard Campbell Gansey III, as atrocious as it sounds. No matter what he’s done, nothing could be as lethal as saying his full name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i want to sleep next to you, but that's all i want to do right now

**Author's Note:**

> title is from talk me down by troye sivan. inspiration from this comes from a tumblr post.  
> my tumblr is @crankwinston

Blue Sargent stares down at the folder in her hands, stalling per usual as she flips the contents of paper around between her dark, nimble fingers. She lays back down on her patterned sheets decorating her bed, glancing out the window. There’s a raven that breezes past, stopping by momentarily before deciding to leave. It must know how monstrous she is.

With a groan, Blue flops over onto her stomach. Time to stop skirting the issue. Although she despises her assignments, she gets paid heavily and rewarded even more than the amount of wealth she receives. 

She pulls the crumpled sheets from under her stomach, closing her eyes for feigned dramatic effect. She’s nervous. This doesn’t feel right.

Blue opens the portfolio. Some stats tumble out, but she finds herself most drawn to the picture. His name appears to be Richard Campbell Gansey III, as atrocious as it sounds. No matter what he’s done, nothing could be as lethal as saying his full name. 

A boy—no, a man—stares up at her, his brown locks a crown on his head, gorgeously mussed, curls falling into his eyes. There’s a glint of his glasses, which covers the exact shade of brown they are (she looked at the sheet that gave his height and all those necessities). He dresses formally despite the background, which is just a simple park. His sweater is mustard yellow, underneath it a crisp white shirt. He looks like a model, and his posture is regal. His skin is tan, and his nationality reads Latino. 

Blue sighs shakily, flipping the page to stop staring at the god of a mortal to read his strengths and weaknesses. He’s a sweet talker: surprise, surprise. He has a way with words, and he’s been known to get away with things due to his abundance of money. Whether it’s inherited or earned, Blue doesn’t know. 

Weaknesses are left blank. How helpful.

“Great.” Blue mutters, scanning his recently attended areas. 

“Nino’s.” Blue murmurs under her breath, tipping her head to the side. Time for her to get a side job.

…

Blue walks up to the table where Richard Campbell Gansey III sits, pulling a notepad out from her skirt pocket. She leans against the table for support, gaining the boys’ attention. Richard—or his preferred name, Gansey—sits closest to the edge, near her. 

Next to him sits Ronan Lynch (luckily, she gained more information from the papers), a transgender boy who tends to lash out at strangers and drive recklessly. He doesn’t bother to even take the ridiculous straps of leather around his wrists out of his mouth, gnawing on them like a wild dog would with a bone, his dark eyes narrowed at her.

Underneath the table, Ronan plays footsie with Adam Parrish, a soft-spoken boy with tan skin and freckles. His dusty hair looks wind-swept, and she notices how Ronan’s eyes stray to him whenever they’re not sizing Blue up. Adam fiddles with the menu, raising his gaze to Blue and offering a tiny smile, a nod of respect.

Lastly, next to him sits Noah Czerny. He’s agender, much alike to Blue herself, with nearly white-blonde hair and even paler skin. He has a faint bruise underneath one of his eyes which strikes Blue as odd, he doesn’t seem the type to get into fights. His other friends probably take care of that for him, namely Ronan. His smile goes from his mouth to his gray eyes, and he looks warm and nurturing. 

“What can I get for you all today?” She asks, making eye contact with them all before Gansey speaks up.

“Just a large cheese pizza, and Coke for Adam—“He points at said boy, then the rest following after. “A sprite for Noah, and just a water for me.” 

Blue has opted the slightly sarcastic but somewhat interested approach. “And who are you?” She asks nonchalantly, tipping up her chin to look as sophisticated as possible, her dark natural curls falling into her eyes slightly.

Gansey looks impossibly impressed, flashing her a winning smile, all pearly whites. “Richard Campbell Gansey III.” He responds, like she didn’t know already. “You can call me Gansey.”

“Alright, Gansey. Your drinks will be out whenever I get around to it.” Blue says, turning with a swish of her skirt, heading back off to the kitchen.

She hears Noah giggle, and she can feel Ronan rolling his eyes when her back is turned.

“You don’t have to fucking order for us, Dick.” He speaks up, his voice gravelly. Blue’s not sure if he’s using his nickname or the derogatory term, but she finds herself biting her lip to keep from laughing anyways.

That’s the first time she meets them.

…

Blue doesn’t even have to worry about finding Gansey most of the time, the gang always appear at Nino’s around six o’clock at night, her target always bringing the silly booklet of his that contains maps and scientific recordings. 

She doesn’t learn much in the beginning, just that Ronan always rests his legs on Adam’s lap and steals sips of his Coke, that Noah Czerny braids hair surprisingly well, and Gansey’s obsessed with Welsh kings.

Blue does some research on it after Gansey’s interest comes in to play, which only leads to him being more fascinated with her. He routinely invites her to sit with them all at the table, Blue squeezing in against his side. Their arms brush, and her body receives an electric touch, but Blue’s sure it’s because of all those damn shaggy sweaters that he wears all the time. Ronan always complains about being squished, but other than that he doesn’t complain much other than a “dad, stop,” aimed towards Gansey. 

Gansey continues to ignore Ronan’s protests and diminutives on a daily basis. 

Blue’s mission is always in the front of her brain, but the longer she spends with her leg slung over one of Gansey’s, reaching across the table when Noah reaches for her hands, she forgets about her purpose. 

…

Gansey sits at a table alone, and for one heart stopping moment, Blue’s sure he’s brought a date. She’s got no leads on his sexuality (not that it matters anyways), but he does spend an awful lot of time hanging around his boys—their boys? She’s grown attached, she’ll admit it—his hand always lingering on Ronan’s thigh or Adam’s shoulder. 

Gansey finds her eyes, his calming brown ones (the exact shade of a hazelnut, she’d discovered, they always sit so close their noses nearly brush) meeting her own frenzied ones. He pats the table across from him, towards the empty end where Noah and Adam normally sit. 

Blue finds herself gliding across the diner to plop herself down across from him, crossing her legs. “Your boyfriends ditch you?”

Gansey doesn’t seem phased, save for the fumbling in his hands. “Unfortunately.”

“It’s about time.” Blue agrees with a solemn nod of her head, and Gansey’s lip twitches. 

“That’s not what I’m here about, though.” He starts, and he looks almost disgruntled. 

Blue’s eyebrows knit together, and she shrugs, tentatively, placing a hand on top of Gansey’s to stop their twitching. He doesn’t bat hers away. 

“I’ve got a lead on Glendower, and I don’t know whether I should go carry it out or not.” Gansey says finally, and Blue resists the urge to smash her head on the table at his ridiculousness (the table smells like pizza and stale beer anyways). For a moment, she thought he was going to ask her on a date, and she waits for her heart to slow. 

“So… Why’re you here?” Blue asks skeptically. 

“To ask you whether it’s a good idea or not.” Gansey explains, spreading one of his hands, his other one clasping Blue’s. “Ronan told me it was a ‘shitty idea,’ but then again, everything is to him. Adam seemed to side with him, he thinks it’s too dangerous, and I don’t know where Noah’s disappeared off to.”

Blue purses her lips, her gaze fleetingly moving to their hands. What a rush she’s getting, how could she think when there’s a rippling sensation running up her arm to her beating heart. “How good is the lead?” She hears herself asking. She needs to stop acting like a love struck teenage girl. 

“Very good. To think, years’ worth of research has led up to this.” Gansey sighs dreamily. It occurs to Blue that she’s not Richard’s type, none other than adventure and discovery is.

“Then I think you should do it. Go after it.” Blue sighs. It feels like she’s letting Gansey go, but not in the way a parent would send their offspring off to college. 

Gansey’s hand clears her, squeezing once. Maybe they could pretend, just for once. Maybe she could. “I want you to come with me.”

Blue feels herself smile, notices the way Gansey stares intently at her mouth, waiting for her answer. “I guess so.” She says coyly. 

Blue learns another fact that day: when Gansey sings his powerful laugh, his head tips back and the dim lighting of the Nino’s lamps is his halo.

…

It’s just them alone, searching for Glendower in the muddy period of dawn, the morning dew sprinkling over her rain boots as she watches. Her fingertips catch Gansey’s every now and then, until Blue finally hooks her finger around his. It’s the first smile of his she sees that day, despite his seriousness.

Trudging around for hours had never felt more right, even when it started to rain and Blue didn’t bring a rain jacket, so Gansey tugged her against his chest. He’s not even very tall, but he tried his best, like he does with everything (he must have learned it from Adam). He shields her from most of it, letting it fall into his hair, and some droplets trickle down to splash against Blue’s forehead, smelling mint leaves and champagne on his breath and attire, overpowering the scent of rain.

“I don’t think we’ve found Glendower.” Blue observes when the rain starts to stop, glancing up at Gansey, pushing his wet locks plastered in a cowlick against his forehead back so it doesn’t wet his glasses anymore. 

“Yeah, but this trip wasn’t a complete waste.” Gansey comments, his smile devilish and charming despite his sopping state. He hardly looks like the man Blue is supposed to kill, but she pushes it into the back of her mind.

“You’re only saying that because I’m plastered to you.” Blue comments, taking a step back, and Gansey immediately reaches out to find her wrist with his wet hand, pressing his thumbs against his pulse. She allows it to thrum, can’t hide the frantic pumping. 

“I guess so, Blue.” He murmurs with an easy shrug, taking a step further. Due to the weather, he’d ditched his disgusting boat shoes, for a more favorable pair of sneakers. He looks like a normal teenage boy for a change, especially since he’s still drenched.

Gansey leans forward to tuck Blue’s hair behind her ear, the gesture not as much romantic as practical. “Did I ever tell you how much I hated the name ‘Blue’?” He asks, stepping closer, and Blue grins again.

“You’ve mentioned it once or twice.” She murmurs. The only sound around them is the pattering of the rain, and sometimes Gansey’s footsteps.

Mint leaves wash across her face, cooling her even more when Gansey gets close enough. “How about Jane, Jane?” He asks.

“No, not a fan. I don’t look like a Jane.” She mumbles, laughter bubbling in the back of her throat.

“It’s too late. You’re Jane.” Gansey says matter of fact-ly. 

“Can’t fight that logic.” Blue says, and Gansey lets out a laugh before he leans in. 

He moves slowly, giving Blue all the time to pull away. She knows she has to, but reciprocation makes her brain go foggy, and the last thought she has is that he doesn’t notice the knife tucked into the inside of her boot.

Their lips brush, and Blue goes on tiptoes, barely managing to slip in the coil of earth that is the ground, finding Gansey’s sloshing jacket and curling her hands into fists. Their mouths slide together, and they’re both laughing soon, giddiness hardly contained between the brief touches of tongues, and Blue’s head reels.

“Can we go home? You’re getting me all wet, which defeated the purpose—“Blue asks, but Gansey leans down to slot their mouths together again with a short nod. 

Blue hadn’t meant to say home, but Gansey had automatically and undoubtedly agreed. Her mission has become her absolute last priority.

…

Blue peels off layers, shedding them onto the floor before collapsing onto her bed, making the mattress squeak. The covers are a simple white shade, nearly blinding since the sun has come up, like Gansey’s dress shirt. 

Gansey strips down into just boxers and some socks, his own dress shirt somewhat unbuttoned, and when he crosses across the bed, Blue is pleased to find him only somewhat damp.

“You know you’re going to have to pick your clothes up, right?” Blue asks, and Gansey takes his glasses off, setting them down on her nightstand before crawling into bed with her. 

He remains careful, lying down across from her and making not to touch her but allowing his eyes to wander over every stretch of skin, from the strip of pudge underneath her blouse and the space from her short, colorful socks to her shorts. “Later.”

Blue cozies up to Gansey nearly immediately, rolling her eyes but tangling their legs together. Gansey takes that as permission to run his hand up her thigh, and her skin tingles pleasantly where she’s touched. He doesn’t even bat an eye at the unshaved hair there, just marvels her body as if she were Aphrodite, or Glendower.

“Bet I feel different than Ronan, huh?” She asks teasingly, and Gansey makes a noncommittal noise.

“Much different.” Gansey murmurs. Blue can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

He glances up at her, and if he had glasses, she can tell he’d be looking around them. “Ronan’s really squirmy in bed. Very demanding.” He tells her, his tone completely serious.

Blue scrunches her nose up. “Ew.”

“I don’t know—“Gansey starts, about to go off on a tangent. Blue huffs, sitting up and placing her hand on the back of neck, letting her fingertips filter through the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

Blue sits up before he can talk about Ronan and his’ sex life, pressing their lips together. She makes sure she’s all he’s thinking about.

…

The Gray Man shows up at her door, and thankfully, she’d managed to stumble into a more formal attire before. “Your mission.” He says immediately, and Blue sighs.

“I know—“ 

“No, you don’t.” The Gray Man cuts her off, and his voice is ever gentle, but somewhat urgent. “You know we need to move on with assignments. Do we need to shift your case to someone else?” He keeps his voice down, as if he knows Gansey’s finally dozed off down the hall.

“No. No, you don’t need to.” It’s inevitable, Blue has realized. Gansey’s death, her heart getting broken, leaving her boys, they’re all going to happen. There’s a part of her that wants control and some part of closure, and it’s her burden alone. She wants to make her final time the final time.

The Gray Man looks pained, and he reaches out to place his gloved hand on Blue’s shoulder. 

His eyes say “I’m sorry.”

Hers say “I know.”

…

A couple days later, Gansey greets her at her house, his hair adorably mussed, his brown backpack saddled on his shoulders. “I’ve got another lead and I know it’s here this time. You ready, Blue?”

“No.” Is what Blue wants to say. 

Instead, she grins, goes on tip toes, and kisses Gansey senseless (she can tell because he asks her what he was talking about—she made him forget Glendower). 

“Yeah. Let’s go.” 

This is the day the king falls.

…

Gansey was right: the entire place buzzes like a beehive, and Blue can feel the energy running through her veins like fire instead of blood. She feels jittery, and she doesn’t know if it’s because of the adrenaline Glendower fuels or if it’s due to the knife inside of her coat pocket.

There’s no way to work around it, but she knows Gansey would have wanted to at least see Glendower before he died. Everything feels like destiny, from the way he looks around in awe, unbeknownst to her slipping the knife out, aiming it at his back.

Something makes her pause, maybe the gory pictures of her past victims, or maybe it’s his quick grin, or the way he outlined her body with his hands, murmuring against her skin sweet nothings. 

Gansey turns his head, and the “look, Jane!” dies in the back of his throat when he sees the weapon. He doesn’t respond for a moment, cocking his head to the side like a puzzled dog would when scolded, and he lets out a breathy, fearful laugh. Royalty can tremble. 

“This isn’t how I saw this date going.” He mumbles, his voice surprisingly tight. Betrayal comes in waves, and there’s no way Blue can go back from this, even if she spared him.

If she were any normal teenager, she would’ve asked, “is this a date?” 

Instead, her hand shakes as she takes another step further. 

Gansey doesn’t even move, resigned to his fate. “Jane… Blue.”

Shivers run down her spine, he doesn’t bother begging like her past preys. He sounds so helpless.

Blue can hear Noah’s screaming, horrified instead of gleeful. Adam’s resigned expression, all the time spent learning to grow and prosper with the help of his so called friends, being thrown down the drain. Ronan, drowning his sorrows with beer after beer. The guilt cleverly hidden behind locked doors, all the unsaid “I love you’s” and “I’d do anything for you’s”.

Blue stabs Gansey and doesn’t turn away. There’s a morbid, macabre squelching sound, and it reminds her of Gansey’s stomps in the rain during their first Glendower scavenger hunt, when they first kissed. 

She sinks to her knees, cradling Gansey’s body to her chest as he takes his last breathes, letting out a sob. The knife clatters to the dirt, blood pooling around Gansey’s favorite sweatshirt—hers too—while she lowers her head to press one last kiss to his quickly cooling forehead. 

For one moment, she can pretend Welsh kings among men couldn’t die and this was all a dream. Just for a moment.

…

The Gray Man opens his arms for Blue, and she gratefully sinks into his chest. She hates her occupation, hates that her soulmate had to be assassinated by her of all people, hates that Noah, Adam, and Ronan don’t even know somethings wrong.

“It’s time to go.” They’re moving towns again. Leaving. Departing. Just like Blue had to do with Gansey’s body, holding a small funeral just for the two of them in the dirt. 

Blue blinks her eyes open, squeezing them to dispel the last of the tears. There’s her next assignment tucked underneath his arm, which he tries to hide. 

She can’t bring herself to blame him, just herself. Now, Blue has to learn how to live a life devoid of Glendower, pizza at Nino’s, and love dispersed throughout friends. She has to survive knowing that she brought down an entire kingdom, starting with one king and murdering the rest of them subconsciously.

Blue glances back up at the Gray Man with a short nod. 

“Let’s go.” She whispers.


End file.
